Mouse's House exists to serve you, the reader who finished one of the books by Lyda Morehouse and find yourself craving MORE, MORE!

This page is now organized by novel and type of fiction. Please let me know if you don't find it satisfactory. (For a while, I'll be keeping the navigation bar to the left, what follows below will hopefully clarify what's where and what's what.)

UPDATED January 3, 2011

PRE-Archangel Protocol

Nothing here yet, though I have started a short story that takes place in the Black-Out Years with Mouse as the protaganist.

POST-Archangel Protocol

A vignette that takes place after the end of the epilogue of Archangel Protocol. The date is June 2079 (making Dee, approximately eight months pregnant).

Dee [vignette] "I looked over at the depression Michael left in our cot. We had fallen asleep with his hand cupping my extended, pregnant belly. I woke up because I needed to pee, and he was gone again."

Scenes from Mouse's P.O.V. that were removed from the final edit of Messiah Node. They're all in .pdf format because I'm lazy and they're LONG. They were, after all, functioning as actual chapters until I made the midnight decision to remove them from A.A. If you complain often and loudly enough I may be convinced to change them to .html.

"Matt, the Guard I hate work.
Work here is boring. What would you expect from a bank? Why do they even have a hack guard? The tech on the firewalls they have for their accounts and databases now are incredible. I couldn’t even hack them, and I practically know them backwards and forwards. Not that I’d want to hack a bank, mind. Like I want to end up in a bioluminescent four by four cell for the rest of my life."

"I walked along the cracked cement of the trail, letting the park noises drift along around me. Somewhere nearby children played on rocks, relaxing business folk read the paper over cups of mass-produced coffee, and young lovers intertwined their fingers between them on park benches. Everyone was in such a fucking good mood. Still, it was good to be back."

The LINK's Brilliant ether was soothing and bright as I moved my Avatar quickly through the streets of the New York node. I could feel the LINK flow and pulse around me like a lulling stream. When I moved I exerted no force but simply used the current to push myself along. I flowed and drifted, my avatar gave all onlookers the image of a man drifting along with a cloak on. I passed several neon signs and screaming advertisements but none were what I was looking for....

SLASH

Now, do I have to remind you kids that slash is for grown-ups? You need to be 18 or older to be clickin' these links, got it? Also, they are organized by pairing.

Michael paced the interior the belfry, wondering if he could've prevented Deirdre from leaving the church. A walk, she had told him. That was hours ago. He bit his lip to keep from cursing himself. He could've at least put up a fight, blocked the door, or *followed her.*

Pious Muslims know that it is a great honor to surrender their will to a Higher
Power. Me, I've never been a very good Muslim. That is, until I discovered that Allah could be one seriously hot mama in size twelve purple leather pumps.

I was so busy shoving things into my duffel bag that I don't even notice Ariel standing there for a moment, watching me with a sympathetic expression. Well, in my defense, I wasn't really doing a very good job packing, either. I stop for a moment, and we sort of stare at each other. Finally, I ask her, "What?" It comes out a little more hostile-sounding than I intend.

I lie on the floor, listening to the soft sound of rain against the window. The wind rattles the pane. It would have been pleasant, if the taste of a certain supreme bastard didn’t still linger on my tongue.

**************************

Thus endith the boy-on-boy action, and now for something completely different...

Smells are difficult. You can record and upload audio and visuals easy as cake, and to a degree, touch, but the LINK has no easy file conversion for smells. I’ve had Page searching sensory databases all day for cooking bacon – he’s retrieved 114 variations from mouse.net users, none of them quite right.

The red chair is probably a little too comfortable for coding. IT smells like coffee, probably because he spilled a lot of it there this morning. There's a monitor on the table next to him, with white letterson a black background spelling out his latest code in progress.

I had a program monitoring Dee's fan board, not that the moderators realized I was there. No way that bunch of amateurs would figure out this particular rodent had set up shop in their walls. My algorithm ranked censored posts as more interesting based on how quickly they were deleted. Most of them were lame, but sometimes there were some hidden gems in there among the crap.